


The Ramblings of Someone Barely Understood

by SpiritPie



Category: Original Work
Genre: I'm Sorry, No Fandom - Freeform, Nonscence, Ramblings, Snippets, Tags May Change, This will make me sound crazy, This will not make sense to many people
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-10 23:02:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4411289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiritPie/pseuds/SpiritPie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I have a tendency to ramble about nonsensical things that seemingly only I understand. Watch out, this might get crazy.<br/>No. This will defiantly get crazy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nothing = Everything

I’m good at speaking nonsense. It’s made of words you understand, but placed in an order that needs to be translated. I only know clearly what I mean at the time I wrote it. After that it’s just a shard of what I understand. Or understood? Did I ever know? I’m unsure. Thinking is strange, because if nothing exists, then what are we thinking about? Nothing? Then isn’t that something?

Somethings are something, and everything is something, so something is everything. But everything is nothing because it can’t be proven to exist, even if you can see it. But that makes nothing something, making it everything. But how can nothing be something, making it everything?  
Nothing = Everything?

I’m not good with words. They are used to communicate with others. It’s a widely used thing, no one doesn’t use it, but it can’t explain what I’m trying to ‘say’. I can’t show you, Its invisible. I can’t have you listen to it, it’s soundless. You can’t taste it or smell it. But you can’t feel it like I can. You can think it, but it’s not the same ‘it’.  
What is thinking anyways? You can’t sense thinking, it just happens. It’s hard to stop, but where does it go? Where does it start? WHY does it start?  
Once you’re done with a thought, what happens to it? How can people hope to see others thoughts? My thoughts are not in pictures or words. They have no description; I just know they aren’t pictures or words. It’s just a black ‘screen’ in my eyes. When I think, the black screen is in front of my eyes, but I can still see what’s in front of me. I know it originates in my brain, but how? It’s not there. The ‘screen’ isn’t there.


	2. Where all the visions cease to be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We will relish in the nothingness of it all.

How can I begin to explain, when we don’t speak in the same ways? There are no words to explain what I know to be true, and we don’t speak in the same hue. Do you understand me? I know I said nothing, but I told you everything while you tried to hear me. Don’t use your eyes or ears. Do you hear me? You look at me strangely. You don’t see me, you feel me.   
Why are you here? I can’t do anything for you. Leave me in my forest of existence, not hearing a thing. I will speak to you, having known all along, with words you understand, but can’t see, about things you already knew. You’re frustrated. Come to me; tell me you’re sorrows, so that you might one day know what I know to be true. Follow me into the nothing in the center of everything. We will lay in the weightlessness of it all, and talk about the nothingness in our minds that means everything to those that know what we will soon know to be truth. Truth is but a falsehood that we all know as truth.   
You act so certain of what you know, but without your certainty, what are you? You are me, you just don’t know it. Another truth you simply disregard. Do you live with me, or through me? No one knows your face, do you still exist? Did you ever exist? Our understanding of time ticks away. Yet you still smile at me, your sadness leaking out of you, swallowing you whole. How long has it been, you staring at what you perceive to be ‘me’? Do you know? How did you get here?   
Your wounds are open, the salt of your sorrow burning them. We are the only ones here. Do they miss you? Do you care? You fall forever, drinking in the darkness of your nothingness, but do you truly love the nothingness in everything? The one thing unknown to me, the thing you fear but refuse to admit to existing. Do you remember?


	3. Words? Those are strange things, my friend.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even I have no idea what this is, so I guess it counts.

It bothers me greatly when someone tells me that I’m girly for liking girl clothes, jewelry, animals and flowers. I’m not girly. No one is girly. Anyone can like flowers and jewelry, but it doesn’t make them girly. I don’t understand how someone can tell me I’m a tomboy and girly at the same time. Yes, I’m a tomboy, I know what that word means, but what does girly mean anyways? I know what it describes, but that doesn’t make any sense.  
The word is a stereotype, but if no one is really girly, then why do people use it like it just describes the female gender? But then why is it used to describe a man if they like flowers and jewelry too, even If they were a body builder? That would make them manly, right? Then it works like girly too, making it just as strange. I see how they describe men with manly, it has man in it, and girly has girl in it. But shouldn’t it be more like womanly? Why is it girl? Did it come from the time when women were seen as inferior, so they made it girl to give the illusion of a female child? Words don’t make much sense to me, though it’s the only way we can communicate as of now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
I like rambling, and I think I can come up with some thought provoking things, but nowadays I find even that difficult to do. It’s not that I can’t, I just don’t know what to write. I can start off with a topic and just write words, but I have to think before I write, and that defeats the purpose. Even now, I had to pause and think to continue, and once this sentence is over, what then?  
~~~~~~~~~~~~  
I want to share my thoughts with the world, but how could I do so when the world doesn’t want to listen?

**Author's Note:**

> This is short. But things like this take time.


End file.
